


Breeding Sherlock

by Nonnie (Anonymous_Account)



Series: Breeding Sherlock [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bestiality, Consensual Non-Consent, Consensual Sex, Incest-adjacent, M/M, Multi, Other, Slight D/s Dynamics, fantasies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 09:34:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10716780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous_Account/pseuds/Nonnie
Summary: The continuing adventures of Sherlock, Mycroft, Greg, and Max in navigating this new fascination of theirs - of breeding Sherlock to everyone's satisfaction.A continuation of the story started inBreeding Puppy Sherlock.As this one continues but doesn't focus exclusively on the puppy play side of things (at least not in every story), I decided to make it part of a series, rather than a second chapter.





	Breeding Sherlock

**Author's Note:**

> Now, if you're worried about the content of a fic like this, I strongly suggest you go read my [author's note on the first one](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6649483), because it certainly applies here as well.
> 
> And if you're here for a bit of fun, raunchy, idealized fantasy bestiality, Yay!  
> (Although, sorry, there's none this chapter, I'm just setting it up so we can get there. Hopefully you'll like it anyway.)

Mycroft set his wine down, cocking his head slightly at Greg’s refusal - that hadn’t been expected. “Didn’t you enjoy yourself last time?”

Greg’s eyes roved around the room, his heart already beating a little faster at the memory. It had been quite thrilling to see Sherlock naked, muzzled, and bound to the breeding block while Greg’s German Shepherd mounted and fucked the daylights out of him. Probably far too enjoyable. He took a slow sip of his own drink, his face flushing. “It wasn’t that,” he finally managed. “It’s…” How the hell did one phrase it?  “It’s… Look, I probably shouldn’t have liked it for the reason I liked it, okay?”

“You didn’t like seeing him mounted?”

Greg’s cheeks grew a deeper shade of pink.

“Fucked to within an inch of his life by your dog?” Mycroft managed to make those words sound smooth and enticing rather than crass things they should be, while still managing to summon amazingly perverse memories from his mind. It wasn’t fair. Greg shifted uncomfortably, his cock already threatening to perk up.

“Sherlock coming with Max’s knot swollen inside him?”

Greg’s right hand rose to rub nervously over the back of his neck, before trailing down over his face, breath stuttering while he slowly exhaled, trying not to be more affected than he should.

“Max's come pulsing into him continuously for over half an hour?”

Good lord, the words Mycroft was using! Greg crossed his legs and tried not to whimper, with only partial success. A tiny grin of satisfaction flickered across Mycroft’s face and he took another sip of wine, plucking a cube of cheese to nibble from the tray between them.

He watched Greg squirm for a few moments before going on.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, you know. He enjoys it; _I_ enjoy it; lord knows Max enjoys it.”

Greg martialed his thoughts before revealing what, to him, felt like a very shame-worthy secret. “It’s not that - I mean, yeah, it’s that, but… it’s not just the sex. I mean, yeah, I know everyone likes it, but in my head, I can’t help but visualize…”

“Ah,” Mycroft cut him off. “You like to pretend it’s degrading - possibly a punishment for all his biting comments and contrariness, am I right? Getting used as nothing more than a hole for your pet to fuck?”

Greg dropped his head into his hands, the flush on his cheeks growing redder and creeping down his neck as well. He groaned miserably.

“If you think either I or Sherlock were unaware of your particular interest, you are grossly mistaken.” This only served to make Greg feel even more chagrined. Of course they would have known. God, what they must think of him…

“Gregory… it bothers neither of us. In fact, we’re rather pleased it adds another dimension of enjoyment for you. A fantasy is a fantasy - nothing at all to be ashamed of, and lord knows after dealing with Sherlock for any extended period of time, seeing him taken down a peg would be a balm to most anyone’s soul.

“Even Sherlock’s aware of how difficult he can be. He’s not at all averse to you indulging yourself - frankly, I’d be surprised if he wouldn’t be up for a little roleplay. Yes, he enjoys being mounted - he loves the feel of it - from the fur on top of him to the frantic pace to the cock swelling inside of him. But that doesn’t mean you can’t pretend he doesn’t.”

Mycroft took another sip, moistening his mouth before proceeding.

“The first time he was very embarrassed by _how much_ he’d enjoyed it. A little talk about how much the rest of us had enjoyed it, and he was far less worried. It is what it is - you’re allowed to get a little pleasure out of it. So you like to see him taken down; he enjoys the physical sensation of an animal fucking him; I enjoy the spectacle, but the main draw for me is the power play - the notion that I can set these up and Sherlock will do my bidding. Now, anyone who knows Sherlock knows you can’t _make_ him do anything - doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy the fantasy.

“We’re all in it for different reasons, but they overlap nicely, don’t you think?”

Mycroft watched for a few moments as all of this sank into Greg’s brain, and the realization slowly dawned that it was _fine._ He didn’t have to self-recriminate. They all wanted to do it; they knew what turned him on, and they didn’t mind. He wasn’t a freak. (Okay, yes, watching someone have sex with a dog probably qualified him as a freak, but he was a freak amongst other freaks and a very happy dog.) Greg smiled shyly, head still bowed for a minute or two before he straightened, knocked back the rest of his drink (not an exceedingly high-class act with expensive wine, but it was time he left and let his mind mull this over for a while) and stood, the grin spreading and his confidence returning.

Mycroft set his drink down and rose with him. “Are you feeling better?”

The grin bloomed yet again. “Much, yeah. Guess that was something I really needed to hear.”

Mycroft returned the smile. “Glad I could help. So, does this mean another play date may be in the offing?”

Greg’s lips quirked up at one corner. “God, I hope so!”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes! This does mean I'm continuing it! 
> 
> However, there's no way I'm going to be able to update on any sort of regular schedule, or without long gaps in between. It's going to very much be one of those slow-to-update, irritating WIPs. I apologize for that in advance, but it's probably best you know that going in.
> 
>    
> And please, please, please leave kudos and comments! Those always help keep writers enthused and going, but with this one, it helps even more to know that people are enjoying and getting something out of it. Even if it's just a good _'Unnfff'!_ :P
> 
> If you're especially worried about leaving them, you can log out of your account and leave them anonymously - it still means a great deal that you'd take the time to do so!
> 
> Many thanks, and thanks to all of you for the encouragement so far!


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